Something Close to Love
by Armontentia
Summary: Tom Riddle is something different. Something else. And Bellatrix grows to love him more as each day goes by. Two-shot, AU
1. Shooting Stars

**A/N: OOOOH MY GOD, HIYAAAAAAA.**

**Sorry it has been DONKS since I uploaded (ok, not really, less than a month) but I've been dead busy with tests, plus I received a little writer's block as a punishment.**

**Damn it.**

**Anyway, so I'm not updating any of my other stories for the time being, but I think when my life gets back to normal I'll be doing this one instead.**

**So… hope you enjoy this ^.^ xoxoxoxoxo**

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><p>'Bellatrix married Rodolphus Lestrange after leaving Hogwarts because it was "expected of her to marry a pure-blood". However, Rowling stated in an interview that Bellatrix's true love was Voldemort, and she had a non-sexual relationship with him.'<p>

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><p>"Bella, look! A shooting star!" the youngest of the four says, pointing at the night sky.<p>

"Make a wish, Cissy," the second youngest murmurs, knowing that Bella is too interested in their older cousin to bother replying to Narcissa with kindness.

"You do know that you're a couple of million years late in making wishes on stars, don't you? The stars are dead. They're hardly going to come back to life and grant a nine-year old girl's hopes when she's too young to understand life properly." Bellatrix says bitterly, earning two minutes full of roaring laughter from Sirius.

"What's got you in such a negative mood?" 'Dromeda snaps.

"She's right," Sirius scoffs, playing with Bella's long black curls.

"Oh, she always is," she mutters.

"Unlike you, I don't live in a world of false tales. I face the world for what it is." Bellatrix sighs; leaving the small group silent, before Sirius breaks speaks to her once more.

"You know that bloke – Riddle, I think his name is – that works in Borgin and Burke's shop?"

"Yes, what about him?" she says, somewhat dreamily.

"Well, mum's got him – wait, you aren't seriously keen on him, are you?"

"Keen?" she repeats, giggling slightly on her cousin's use of words, "I can't deny he's… nice."

Sirius hits her arm lightly. "He's eight years older than you."

"So? I know girls who've got their eyes on men _twenty _years older than them. Anyway, Walburga's got him _what_?"

"You have some messed up friends. And he's coming round tomorrow, looking at those weird things she keeps on the fireplace."

"But we're still going to be here tomorrow. Mother and Father don't get back for another three days."

"All the better for you then."

Bella doesn't speak, before asking quietly, "How long's he staying?"

"Why are you so interested?"

"He's… different."

"He's creepy." Andromeda cuts into their conversation, while Narcissa lies on the grass, smiling to herself as each star twinkles.

"Well, _I _like him."

**-.x.-**

"The Knights of Walpurgis?" Bellatrix says, checking that she heard right, and looking directly into Mr. Riddle's eyes.

"A small organisation. However, we are growing in numbers… and I would be honoured, Miss Black, if you agreed to join us."

She tilts her head to the side, locks brushing her cheeks as she does so. "And how would I, a fourteen year old, be of use to you?"

He gives her a small smile, and extends a pale finger, twirling a curl around it. "You are a skilled witch."

"It's nothing to do with the family I come from, then?"

Tom smirks, and takes hold of her chin. "You're smart. But you do not seem to trust me."

"I don't tend to trust people anyway, so don't flatter yourself."

He gives a low chuckle. "Independent?"

"It's necessary."

"How so?"

"I do not want to become weak," she whispers, her eyes closed, leaning into his cold touch.

"I doubt you are."

"My life is full of weak people."

"_I'm _not weak."

"I doubt you are," she says, echoing his words.

He smirks once more, and pats her head, mockingly.

"Good girl," he murmurs, before slowly removing his hand from her chin, turning and walking out the door.

Her fingers trace where his own had been as soon as he is no longer in her sight.

**-.x.-**

"Mother said _I _could wear it!"

"Well she's not here now, so seeing as I'm older than you, I should be the one who wears it!"

"Will you two give it a rest?" Bella growls, catching the attention of her younger sisters. Andromeda is holding a pale blue, floor-length dress, one that is a style of which the three girl's mother hardly ever lets them wear.

"But Bella, they'll be here soon and expect us to be ready! It's alright for you, you've got that new dress, but Mother refused to get _me _a new one, so said I could wear her old one!" Narcissa says desperately, two tears falling down her face.

"Fine! 'Dromeda, go look in my wardrobe for something you like. Narcissa, go and get changed into that. It's starting soon."

"But Bellatrix-"

"For god's sake, just do as I say!"

**-.x.-**

The double doors swing open, revealing a family of five.

At the front is the father, with his black curly hair and grey, sharp eyes. On his right is the eldest daughter of their family; Bellatrix. On his left is the middle child; Andromeda.

At the back is the mother, who has silver-blonde, straight, long hair and pale blue eyes. On her right is the youngest daughter; Narcissa.

To say Bellatrix is the most beautiful is maybe something you could argue about on any other night. You may say that no, in fact, Narcissa is the most beautiful, with her golden hair and icy grey-blue eyes. Or perhaps, Andromeda. Her soft brown eyes and honey brown waves do not particularly follow the Black looks, but then again, neither do Narcissa's.

But Bellatrix is certainly the most eye-catching, the most mysterious, the most talented and the most intimidating of the three sisters on all nights. Tonight, she is those things, and the most beautiful, too. Yet, for once, she is not being smug and taking in everyone's attention – tonight, she is shy, and it shows.

Her head is bowed, and her dark brown – easily mistaken for black – eyes are fixed upon the stone floor. Bellatrix's long black, rigid curls fall below her waist, and cover most of her face. The spine on her curvy but slender body is straight, as taught by her parents, but it does not show the arrogance that it usually does; it gives the impression of someone who'd rather be in a library, reading books, than in a hall full of mostly strangers that are preparing to dance until the early morning.

Several women and teenage girls whisper amongst themselves at her dress. They would have all guessed that she would be wearing a black dress that covered the whole of her body, but no, she wears a one shouldered, white, silk one, that ends halfway between the knees and the thighs of her long pale legs.

As Cygnus nods politely to their guests, they resume their dancing and conversations.

Bellatrix notices a dark featured man she spoke to only yesterday.

Without being fully conscious of moving, like a force, she starts walking towards Mr. Riddle. His eyes are locked onto hers, and she can tell he is fighting a smile.

"Bellatrix!" her Father snaps, grabbing her arm painfully, but she yanks it away. He follows her, trying to attract as little attention as possible.

"Good evening, Miss Black," Tom says, glancing at Cygnus, who is quickly catching up, "you look… exquisite tonight."

"Thank you," she replies, biting the inside of her cheek to try and prevent blushing as he brushes his lips against her cheek.

"Forgive me, my Lord, my daughter is –"

"More delightful than you give her credit for."

For a moment, Bellatrix is confused as to why her Father, someone so bloody prejudice and arrogant, is calling another 'My Lord', before she realises; he is one of the members in the group of the Knights of Walpurgis.

**-.x.-**

As Bella dances, Andromeda can tell she is in a world of her own.

Right now she knows that Bella can forget about the obsession the Black's have with blood purity and selling off their daughters so they can raise more prejudice bastards. And once in a while, the odd one out of their family will come along, and give the other odd ones hope that there is still a chance that one day they will become civilised and stop living in a world of their own desires.

The way she moves around like it's the only thing that matters seems to be catching everyone's eye.

Or maybe it's the fact she's dancing with Tom Riddle.

**-.x.-**

"I have business to attend to – it was most… enchanting talking to you, Bellatrix."

"No-" she demands, gripping onto the sleeve of his robes. He raises an eyebrow, surprised at the lack of caution she acts with around him. And yet he likes it.

"No?"

"I mean… please."

"Why not, Miss Black?"

"You're the only one here who won't be asking me about who's going to be my husband in four years."

He stares at her. He knows that the Blacks are strict about when they're daughters are to marry, but he finds himself thinking that Bellatrix – someone he was so sure would be living her life to the full while she could – being married is dangerous. Keeping her hidden from the world, he muses, will only result in tears.

And so he stays.

For her.

**-.x.-**

Narcissa glances out of the French glass doors in the ballroom, turns her head, then looks back. She has no bloody idea who the hell that man is – the one her sister has been talking and laughing and dancing with all evening. And now she stands in front of him while he sits down on a bench in the cold outside gardens. Couples walk past them, roaming the grounds while holding glasses of champagne. Tonight, though no one has spoken anything that would give it away, was _supposed _to be about Bellatrix finding a man she appreciates enough to spend the rest of their lives together. Or, rather, the other way round. _Women are still far less superior than men_, she thinks. Her nine year old brain has already been brain-washed to follow the rules her parents have set for her in life.

And then she can not help but let her mouth slack as the man stands up and leans in to kiss her eldest sister on the mouth, Bella letting him, wrapping her arms around his neck.

She is sure she is the only one who has witnessed this.

**-.x.-**

Bella knows it feels right. It _is _right. One of Tom's hands is buried in her curls, the other stroking the smooth skin revealed on her neck. Her own are wound around him, and she feels intensity, heat, passion. Her lips are crushed against his and their bodies are pressed together.

Tom knows she is breathless and can not help but _adore _this feeling he is sharing with her. Never before has he done anything like this before, never felt this emotion of humanity.

He feels the one thing he thought he never could.

Something close to love.

**-.x.-**

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><p><strong>AN**

**Ok. You might think it sucks.**

**Well I'm happyish with it, which rarely happens, so please don't bring me down ;'( **

**I know Voldy is 24 years older than Bella, and Sirius is 8 years younger than her… but hey.**

**I did say it's AU :)**


	2. Health

**A/N: **

**Thank you to reviewers & readers! **

**LOVE YOU.**

**xoxoxox**

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><p><strong>Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter<strong>

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><p><em>You are the hole in my head,<em>

_You are the space in my bed,_

_You are the space inbetween,_

_Of what I thought, what I said,_

_You are the night time fear,_

_You are the morning when it's clear,_

_When it's over you're start,_

_You're my head_

_And you're my heart._

_-Florence & The Machine, No Light, No Light._

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><p>On the train back to Hogwarts, Bellatrix is distracted. Her friends notice it.<p>

But not as much as Sirius.

He enters the compartment, ignoring the Slytherin's threats to hex him if he doesn't get out straight away. After all, he's a blood-traitor Gryffindor.

For once, Bellatrix doesn't smile at him and pretend they're not in house rivalry – the least of their problems - and her parents punish her if they find out she's been in his company when she shouldn't be. She just quietly requests him to leave.

At first, he refuses. The others in the compartment laugh, sure that she will curse him herself, if she has to – that's what she'd do with anyone else. That's what she did to James Potter.

When she does no such thing, they ask themselves; _why not Sirius_? Bellatrix stands up and glares at him, though he is undoubtedly taller than her. He can see she is hiding something behind those dark eyes. Behind his own he silently asks her to leave the carriage with him and just _tell him what's wrong_.

A shove from her is all he needs to know he is no longer wanted or needed.

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><p>The heavy rain hits off Bella's head as she steps up into the carriage. Only two of her friends can see the Thestrals that she knows of, and she can see them, too. She has seen death – more than she'd care to have. Her 'friends' all joke about the passing mudbloods they see through the window, when a thought comes to her. <em>Tom Riddle<em>. She's been thinking about him all evening, but now she remembers something in the library – his name is on a trophy for Services to the School. _I'll go there some night this week_, she vows.

The cloak she had thrown around her shoulders is drenched, but she can not bring herself to cast a drying charm on it. She adores the rain – it shows the dreariness of the world.

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><p>Tom Riddle scans the parchment Bellatrix Black sent him this evening. The question repeats itself in his head;<p>

_What 'services' did you do for Hogwarts?_

A glance at his bed sends memories through his mind, and he smiles at the thoughts of the night he and Bella shared last week. He feels slightly guilty, taking the pleasure away from her at such a young age – but it's not as if she'll have much more time to have done it anyway.

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><p>Bellatrix lies in her bed, unconscious and in her peaceful land of dreams. It is the one place she can escape the life she pretends to love.<p>

Her eyes snap open, certain of someone's eyes watching her.

She throws back the covers, breathless.

She is sure she just saw him at the end of her bed; looking at her intensely, as if lusting for her; wanting to replay the other night's events again and again – and she _did not _open the curtains around her four-poster.

_But how would he have gotten in?_

Bellatrix runs a hand through her hair, frantically searching the room for him in case he is hiding; he knows how much she likes games. A deep chuckle from her left makes her giggle, and she silently gets up from the mattress, making sure the girls in her dormitory do not wake up. Almost as soon as she stands, strong arms pull her close, and a cold body is pressed against her own. Breath tickles her ear, and she can not help but let another giggle escape from her lips.

"Good Evening, Bella," he whispers, and a hand entwines with her own.

"Good _Morning_, Tom," she replies, certain that it is not too long until the sun starts rising. A noise similar to a snort comes from him, and she takes her wand off the table, whispering '_lumos_'. She can not help but let out a small gasp.

The pale, creamy skin she last saw him have is now waxy. A reddish tinge is in his eyes, the whites now yellowing, and they seem tired looking.

"Are you ill?" she asks, eyes wide.

"No," he says simply.

She frowns, but does not push the subject any further.

"And how did you get in?"

He hesitates, and then answers, "I had business to attend to."

Bella is about to ask what business before he starts stroking her cheeks.

"So pretty," he murmurs, becoming delighted as colour rises in them, "and from rumours, so _talented_…"

"Rumours?"

He smiles. "You can hardly expect the eldest daughter of the most powerful pureblood family in Britain to grow up without attention, can you?"

_Aha_, she thinks, smirking at how she has set a trap. "You've been listening to what the public think about me?"

Tom's smile falters, and she knows he didn't see that one coming.

"Perhaps."


End file.
